A Moment in Time
by mosylu
Summary: A week before Valentine's Day might actually be the worst time in the world to realize you've been dumped. Killervibe angst, sequel to A Question of Definition.
(A/N) I swear I'm working on the last story in this series, but the more I worked the more I realized I needed a sort of moment in between story 2 and what was supposed to be story 3.

All this to say

HELLO WOULD YOU LIKE SOME ANGST KIDDIES

* * *

In cartoons, when somebody gets punched in the kisser, there's always this breathless moment when they just grin dazedly. Then all their teeth start cracking up and falling out of their mouth with this little tinkling sound, leaving them with just gums and maybe a few little shards of tooth hanging on for dear life.

For some reason, Cisco thought of that as he stood in the seasonal aisle of the grocery store, staring at a fat little hedgehog holding a stuffed satin heart that said, _Be Mine._

He'd been doing his weekly grocery run and had turned down the aisle to see what they had. He enjoyed Valentine's Day, whether he was single or partnered up. He loved the pink and the ribbons and the unapologetic, open, goopiness of it all. He got everyone something. Last year he'd given Barry a plush zombie that said "I love you for your brains" and his best friend had laughed so hard he'd nearly snorted coffee out his nose.

He'd ambled down the aisle, studying the stuffed animals and seen the hedgehog. He'd thought, _Hey, I should get that for Caitlin this year._ Because she could be so prickly on the outside but so soft on the inside.

He always gave Caitlin something extra sickly-sweet and adorable. She always rolled her eyes and said something cutting about greeting card holidays, but she always put the balloon or the chocolates or the stuffed animal on the edge of her desk, and carried it home at the end of the day. Last year's find, a fluffy pink kitten that said "you're purrrr-fect, Valentine!" still sat on the bookshelf in her bedroom.

Then he realized that it had been a full week since he'd seen her bedroom. Or her bed. Or her in it.

Last Sunday night, they'd hung out together at her place, watched a movie, and started messing around before the end of it. This was part of their routine now, something they'd added to the repertoire of hanging-out activities.

They'd been doing it for three months now, ever since the night she'd drunkenly dared him to use his vibe powers on her, and they'd decided to keep it going after sobering up. Casual. Uncomplicated. Just something they did.

His favorite thing of all the things that they did.

They'd moved to the bedroom before the credits started, dragging each others' clothes off. She'd kissed him with a strange intensity, her fingers digging into his shoulders, biting back her gasps of climax as if she were trying to hide them.

After, he'd held her, feeling the little jolts of happiness that he got to be the one here, that it was his hands on her skin and his mouth that brushed hers. He'd told himself that was okay, that was enough, that was _plenty._

She'd had enough drama in her life. She didn't need her best friend falling in love with her. Wanting more than she had to give him. Wanting …

No, this was fine. Being her best friend in the outside world and being the guy who got to be alone with her, wrapped around her, inside her.

It was enough.

When it started to feel like maybe he'd been holding her just a little too long for casual and uncomplicated, he'd said, "I gotta take off, okay?"

"Uh-huh," she said.

He'd kissed her cheek like usual. "G'nite."

She'd mumbled, "Goodnight, see you tomorrow," and let him go.

But the next day, she'd ducked out of work early. "I'm not feeling well."

He'd frowned at her and reached for his phone to order at the pho place she liked when she was sick. "You want - ?"

"I just need a good night's sleep, Cisco, it's fine."

The next day she'd had some kind of unspecified thing that she had to do at night so she couldn't hang out.

The next day, she turned down his invitation to dinner because she'd already eaten.

Thursday, Friday, Saturday, excuse, excuse, excuse.

She didn't answer his texts.

She didn't talk to him at Star Labs about anything except Flash-related things.

Standing in the middle of Valentine's Day, Cisco faced the truth he'd been trying to avoid for the past week - she was done with him. She was done with them.

For some reason she couldn't come out and say it, probably because she didn't want to hurt him, but all her avoidance tactics made it crystal clear.

He'd done everything he possibly could to make it easy and stressless and good for her, something she would want to keep doing for as long as possible, and it still hadn't been enough. He hadn't been enough.

He sat down on the display and put his head in his hands. He felt his heart crack apart and all the shards fall out of his chest, tinkling as they went.

FINIS


End file.
